Wishful Thinking
by tinypinkmouse
Summary: While waiting for the drop, Sam's mind wanders. A Supernatural fusion with the Starship Troopers novel.


Written for spn_in_space. This is a fusion with the Starship Troopers novel, you don't really need to have read the novel to understand the story (but having some sort of idea about what happens in it is helpful of course). One possibly helpful piece of background knowledge though; in the novel a normal tour of duty (during peace) is two years, but in actuality you sign on indefinitely and the military can (and in war time probably will) keep you for as long as they want to.  
>Thanks, as always, to unikorento for the beta.<p>

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><p>"Violence, naked force, has settled more issues in history than has any other factor, and the contrary opinion is wishful thinking at its worst. Breeds that forget this basic truth have always paid for it with their lives and freedoms."<br>-_Starship Troopers_, Robert A. Heinlein

He's not really paying too much attention to the Lieutenant anymore, not now that the inspection is done with and the Old Man is just going over the mission plan again. It's not like they don't all already know it. They've gone over it enough times before now, and then there's the hypnotism of course, so there's not much chance of forgetting. But the Lieutenant always goes over the plan one more time before a drop, just in case. At least he usually spares them the detail and just touches on the highlights.

"Five minutes for the Padre," he hears the Lieutenant's voice say in conclusion, like always. Sam doesn't get up. Maybe he needs the blessings, but he doesn't want them. Once he might have, but that was before... everything.

Instead his mind wanders. It always does before a drop – later there won't be any time – and he lets it. They all deal with the waiting differently, this is his way.

The waiting is always the worst. Ask any cap trooper and he'll tell you the same.

He's an old hand at this now, a veteran of many years. And he's all of twenty three years old. There's enough combat drops under his belt, that you'd think – if you aren't M.I. that is – that he'd be done feeling nervous about it by now. But any of the apes will tell you; you never get over it, you might be on your first or your hundredth drop and just suddenly lose your nerve. It happens.

No one ever really says anything if you refuse to step inside your capsule. But that's it, there's never any second chances. Once you lose your nerve it's all over.

Sam's only ever seen it happen once.

Sometimes he thinks about refusing. Getting sent home and discharged. Honorably. It'd be so easy.

He was never meant to be he here, you see. He was just going to sweat out his term and get his citizenship. He was going to marry Jess and run for public office. They'd had it all planned out, and screw whatever dad thought about it.

Dad was career Navy, had been ever since mom died. _Because_ mom died. Dad had joined up when mom was pregnant with Sam. Of course, Sam can't ever be sure why dad had suddenly decided to enlist, and after he got married at that, but he suspects mom's family might have had something to do with it. All of them citizens, including mom, and more than a few of them career military.

Dad had been in basic when he'd gotten the news about the fire, they'd let him off for the funeral. But he'd gone back, had gone career and as good as made his sons lose both parents in one fell swoop.

Not that dad had been entirely absent, but as close as, as far was Sam was concerned. Dean had been all the family he needed.

And if it wasn't for the fact that Sam had needed citizenship to be able to fulfil his plans for the future, he'd never have enlisted. Because dad expected them to. That's why he'd ended up in the Mobile Infantry, because he'd listed pretty much everything but the Navy in his preferences. Because that was the only way left to spite dad.

He doesn't regret it, even if it seems so silly now. Because while the M.I. might not have been the best fit for Sam, it sure was for Dean. And Dean had followed him of course, had waited four years before enlisting just for the chance to go through basic with Sam. Of course, there had been no guarantees that they'd end up in the same place, but they had.

Sam thinks now that he shouldn't have been so surprised at how well Dean had fit in, but at the time he had been. After all, it had seemed to Sam back then that Dean had always been a troublemaker. _Dean_ was the only one Sam knew who had ever gotten switched at school. Sam on the other hand had been the perfect student. So yeah, he'd expected Dean to keep it up.

It was Sam who'd ended up with his back striped instead. Administrative punishment. But it could have been a lot worse, and he knew it. They could have sent him packing, they could have court-martialed him. Maybe he is too stubborn for his own good. But that's ancient history now and there's no point in dwelling on it.

He should have remembered how Dean had never argued against an order from dad. Should have realised that Dean would _shine_.

Dean and him had been assigned to different ships after basic, of course. Couldn't expect their luck to hold up. Dean hadn't seemed too upset about it though, another surprise about the brother Sam had always known better than anyone else. But the M.I. took care of its own, and Dean had learned to trust them enough that he could let someone else look after his little brother. At least that's the only explanation Sam could think of, and he'd had years to think about it.

There hadn't been an official war back then, but there'd been enough incidents that Sam had started to suspect that once his two years came up, they weren't going to let him go. It'd been after his third combat drop that they'd gotten the news about Buenos Aires and suddenly none of it had mattered anymore.

Now, he'll never know for sure why Jess had been in Buenos Aires, the only person who could tell him was dead. Maybe she'd been on vacation, maybe... but it didn't matter then and it still doesn't matter now. All that matters is that Jess is gone.

The Padre's done with his part and the Lieutenant is speaking again.

"By sections..." he hears the Lieutenant start and it's time for them to get into their capsules. Sam does, like always.

Then there's still more waiting as the capsules are shot out one by one. It's nerve wracking, sitting in there and waiting.

He'd been happy enough about the war back then. He'd been happy about anything that let him kill Bugs. Now it's just that he doesn't really know anything else. None of them do, really. They're M.I. and this is what they do.

Dad had been assigned to the Ypres during Operation Bughouse, so had Dean. And Sam still hasn't learned to suppress the faint flare of jealousy that always rises with that thought. He'd never had the time to patch things up with dad – and even if there had been the time, Sam thinks that back then, he'd still been too angry anyway. And now he'll never have the chance, because dad – along with a hell of a lot of others – had bought the farm back during the operation. Dean, thank god, hadn't. Not even a bit of it. For once, it'd payed off being one of the apes.

Operation Bughouse had been nothing but a major league fuck up, as far as Sam could tell, and it had nearly cost them the war before it even officially started. Of course, he's just one of the lowly apes, and not privy to what goes on up high. So he can't say anything for sure, but he sure can't see how the whole damn thing could have gone any worse than it did.

But then, the soldiers never really know how the war is going. What they don't know, they can't tell when they get captured. Sam really has no idea, even now. It's been a good while since the second attack on Klendathu and the war is still going strong. Some drops go better than others, some battles they win and some they lose. There's a bigger picture somewhere, but that's for the Sky Marshal to sort out.

Last he heard of Dean, his brother had gone career. It's no surprise to Sam, he always suspected that Dean would try to follow in dad's footsteps, one way or another. Maybe Dean will even buck for officer, who knows. Sam thinks he'd probably make one hell of a Lieutenant.

And after everything that's happened, Sam doesn't know why he hasn't gone career himself. It's not like there's anything else for him anymore. Maybe there's still some part of him that thinks that he can serve his term, get his citizenship and try to live that dream he once had. But his two years were up ages ago and he's still here, because they're not letting him go until the war is over – or if he buys the farm of course, or a piece of it.

Sam doesn't think the war will be over during his lifetime. Even if he'd somehow manage to live long enough to die in his sleep. It's possible of course, even in the M.I. to live that long, and some of them do, but usually only with a missing limb or a few.

He feels the bump as his capsule is shot out and then the G's as he drops.

"On the bounce, trooper," he mouths the words quietly for no one but himself to hear.

But right now, none of it matters.

For now, he hunts Bugs.


End file.
